The Quest for the Man
by 2HalvesOfAnInsanePerson
Summary: Not your ordinary YuGiOh fanfic, as seeing as though it's set in the world of Duel Monsters... Will the Dark Magician and his posse ever find the Man? Oneshot.


Laura- A new story! Wow! This is totally unexpected! And Katheen had nothing to do with the making of it!... Which means that we just lost the whole point of a shared account...

Katie- Oh well! Who really cares! This account has been shared by a total of...

Laura- (counting off on fingers) Uh, 37, 94, 3213, 3, Four! Four people!

Katie- ...Riiight. Anyway, this has been typed up by moi. I rock!

Laura- O.o; Mhm. Anyway, so me and Katie--

Katie- _Katie and I..._

Laura- Whatever. We thought this up. Katie is my sister.

Katie- DUH. You are just missing all of the good genes.

Laura- Yor knot ncce!

Katie- >. You suck so bad! Ignore my stupid sister. We made this up one night for no reason. So love it.

Laura- And review!

Katie- You are so weird.

* * *

The Quest for the Man

It was (as always) a lovely day in the happy world of Duel Monster cards. The Dark Magician was engaged in an incomprehensible conversation with Big Shield Gardna.

"(Grunt)," the Big Shield Gardna… grunted. For the thousandth time. For that is all he seems to do.

The Dark Magician tilted his head. "Eeh? You want a cookie?"

The Big Shield Gardna looked frustrated. (If that is possible. This thing seems to show absolutely SQUAT emotion.) "(GRUNT)!"

"You want a protest? Something's bringing you down!"

"(Grunt)…," Big Shield Gardna responded, bored.

"OH NO! I read all about this in a textbook! An outdated social studies textbook! The Man is bringing you down!" the Dark Magician exclaimed, although he had no idea what the other Monster was saying.

"(Grunt)…?"

"THIS TRAVESTY MUST BE STOPPED!" The Dark Magician stood up. "I MUST FIGHT THE MAN!" And with that, he promptly ran away.

Which left his speaking companion all alone. Much to his happiness.

…

The Dark Magician was running down a road. Creatively. Until he tripped. On a Kuriboh! The puffball him a malicious look.

"Kuriboh! We must fight the Man! Come with me on my quest!" the Dark Magician said, overdramatically. He held up a wicker picnic basket. "You can ride in this!"

Kuriboh mustered as much as it could of a shrug and hopped in the Longaberger abomination.

Satisfied with finding a companion, the Dark Magician skipped rhythmically down the road. He screeched to a halt as he spied the blue-skinned Mystical Elf! She looked up from hanging her wet laundry as he shrieked inanely at the sight of a new possible companion.

"Are you on crack again?" she asked indifferently. She continued doing her laundry.

"…No…," the Dark Magician said, narrowing his eyes. He brightened again. "Hey, I'm looking for the Man. Wanna come?"

"Will it help me achieve a greater Zen within myself?" she said, still not paying full attention.

"Um… whatever… Zen… yeah," the Dark Magician replied unsurely.

"'Kay. I'm sick of doing this laundry anyway." She threw down her Downy Ultra Soft and joined the oddly-chosen pack.

"Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet. Now the Man's all evil and I'm trying to find out who he is and why he's evil and a moron and—" (Insert contiguous run-on sentence here.) "—and then Big Shield guy's all—"

The Dark Magician's sick run-on sentence was interrupted by another Monster falling out of a tree! The (Yami: "Obnoxious") CELTIC GUARDIAN!

"Psychedelic!" he shouted. Poor guy.

"Gah!" the Dark Magician yelped. "What the heck are you doing here? Why were you in a tree? And why the heck did you say 'psychedelic'?"

The Celtic Guardian stood up, un-smashing poor Kuriboh, whom he had landed on. "Um… I just am, because, and because I can." He looked around. "Neato! A posse! Can I come!"

The Dark Magician was… um, disturbed slightly by the enthusiasm the pathetic swordsman had shown. But he brightened, glad to see a little emotion. Albeit creepy. "Yeah! We're looking for the Man!"

The Mystical Elf looked up. "Yeah. And… Zen. Or something."

The Dark Magician thought a minute. "A posse. Well then, I guess we're looking for something. Um… well, I'm looking for the Man, and Kuriboh…" He trailed off.

The Celtic Guardian interrupted. "An answer to his mental problems," he said, watching the furball squeak and frolic. Kuriboh paused to look offended.

The Dark Magician shrugged. "Okay, I guess. The Mystical Elf… is looking for…" He waited for an answer from the freaky blue thing, but didn't get one. "Oh! You can look for self-esteem! Because you're really… boring. And unemotional. And…"

The Celtic Guardian jumped around and waved his hand furiously. "Me! Me! Me! What about me? I'm the one who gets called obnoxious!"

"You need… a new identity," the Dark Magician confirmed, just in time for another unexpected appearance.

"Hi hi hi!" the Dark Magician Girl greeted enthusiastically. "Ooh! A posse! Gathering! Whoopee! Can I come too? Oh can I can I can I?" She bounced around in that creepy, bubbly way that makes you wish you didn't know the person.

"Um… yeah, I guess…," the Dark Magician said, trying to understand what was wrong with this girl.

Kuriboh squeaked. This Cirque Du Freak did take a bit of getting used to.

"YAY!" the Dark Magician Girl cheered. "All right! Let's go then!"

The Dark Magician looked disturbed. "And she can look for a longer skirt," he announced to the group. Fortunately the Dark Magician Girl was not paying a speck of attention.

…

Later on their journey, after talking for an extremely long time, they stopped. Dark Necrofear was blocking their path. It screeched.

"Eh? Oh. Hi. We're looking for the Man. Have you seen him?"

Dark Necrofear screeched again. "Why are you so gender stereotypical! I don't know where he is, but I work for him!"

"Oh." The Dark Magician looked a little irritated. "Then thank you for your time." He tried to push the Monster out of the way.

"NO!" Dark Necrofear screamed. It screeched again. The group protected their hearing.

"What?" the Dark Magician asked icily. "Do you want to join our posse, too?"

Dark Necrofear looked taken aback. "Heavens no! That would be an insult to my intellect!"

"Then why did you stop us?" the Mystical Elf asked, growing impatient. Though still emotionless.

"I'm EVIL." Dark Necrofear wondered why it wasted its time here. It could be blowing stuff up. "Evil people are EVIL. We don't care. Actually we do. But it's against you."

"But you aren't a person," the Celtic Guardian pointed out. "Actually… what are you?"

More screeching. "That- that is not of any importance! Now let me destroy you!"

But before this order had been fulfilled, the EVIL Dark Necrofear was squashed under a falling boulder. For now…

"Riiiiiiiiiiiiight," the Mystical Elf said, stepping backwards. "Now we'll just go."

"But which way?" the Celtic Guardian whined. "Where do we go? Where! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" He screamed femininely.

"Aah! We need a compass rose!" the Dark Magician exclaimed.

The girls looked uninterested. "We will use our innate sense of direction," the Dark Magician Girl announced emotionlessly. "And you will follow."

"But you don't have an innate—" The Celtic Guardian stopped as he was met with two malicious glares.

"Heck yes we do," the Mystical Elf growled. "Now follow." And they started off into a clearing in the forest.

…

"♫♪ Follow the Green Brick Road! Follow the Green Brick Road! Follow, follow, follow, follow…♫♪" The Dark Magician cut off the Celtic Guardian.

"The road is red," he said dully.

"Hm. So it is. Well then… ♫♪ Follow the Red Brick Road! Follow the Red Brick Road! Follow, follow, follow…♫♪," the Celtic Guardian improvised.

"Shut up," the Dark Magician Girl sighed. Kuriboh squeaked in agreement.

The Mystical Elf stared at the road. "How dull. I mean, if it has to be a specially coloured road, then can it at least be… not red? Abnormal?"

"Hm… I suppose you're right. Red IS very boring." The Dark Magician agreed.

Before the Celtic Guardian got a chance to make a smart remark, an old friend (ha!) fell out of a tree. It was none other than…

Everyone's favourite psycho-glowy-Yami Bakura-screeching-Shadow Realm-evil Monster! Dark Necrofear!

It screeched. Some things never change…

"Eh? Dark Necrofear? What are you doing here?" the Dark Magician demanded, surprised.

It screeched again. "What don't you get about EVIL?" it groaned. "Look, evil is being MEAN. Torture. Abuse. I'M SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU DESPISE ME WITH EVERY FIBER OF YOUR BEING! Okay?"

The posse looked blank.

"UGH! Look at it this way." Dark Necrofear was slowly growing more and more suicidal. "I. Make you. Hate me! You're supposed to get all mad and stuff! HATE ME! Come on!"

"…Okay…" The Dark Magician Girl looked disturbed.

"Ack… Look, you—" Dark Necrofear was cut off by a Blue Eyes White Dragon that randomly (and conveniently) fell on its head.

"That was random," commented the Mystical Elf.

"And convenient!" Celtic Guardian cheered.

"Yeah, yeah, all's well and good. Now let's get on with it." The Dark Magician dragged the rest of their group after him.

…

"One thousand one hundred fifty-two and a half little ducks went out one day, over the hills and far away, Mother Duck said, 'Quack quack quack quack'… and one thousand one hundred fifty-one and a half little ducks came back…"

…

"Three hundred twelve and a half little ducks went out one—" Celtic Guardian's singing was cut off by a large shadow casting overhead.

"My, my, it looks like rain," the Dark Magician sang, squinting upward. "I do believe those are some nasty looking storm clouds."

"With faces," the Mystical Elf added. Kuriboh squeaked nervously.

"Ack! Revival Gems! Or…" The Dark Magician Girl was cut off by an odd-looking blob.

"We're not Revival Gems! We're Slime Tokens, you blasted tree!"

"Tree?" the posse echoed, confused.

"Oh. Crud. You aren't trees. Uncool!" a Slime Token(!) shouted.

"We destroy those who aren't trees!" another chimed.

"Die!" one added.

"I was going to say that you might be Slime Tokens," the Dark Magician Girl snapped.

"Oh. Well, still. You aren't trees." The Slime Token searched for its master.

Kuriboh chirped. The Dark Magician nodded.

"I must agree," he said. "We aren't. But what's wrong with people who aren't trees?"

"They taste better," a Slime Token grinned.

"Euch…," the Mystical Elf commented, grimacing. "So. You plan on eating us?"

"Uh… yep. I guess if you want to put it THAT way."

"Why aren't you eating and-slash-or attacking them!" the **REAL** Revival Gem demanded.

"Eh?" they turned around. "Um… they're stalling."

"Eat Dark Necrofear," the Dark Magician remarked as the group strolled by, "I hear you don't have to maim it first."

And they strolled on.

…

"La la la la la la…" The Celtic Guardian sang an unknown song as the assemblage continued on. "Say, why is this road so boring?"

"Because we can't decide what colour it is," the Mystical Elf answered, smirking.

The Celtic Guardian evidently believed her, for he began to paint a magenta line on the road with the special paint which he found in a tree. "This is better!" he squealed contently.

The others pretended not to notice the follow-up of singing.

"FOLLOW THE MAGENTA BRICK ROAD! FOLLOW THE MAGENTA BRICK ROAD! FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW THE MAGENTA BRICK ROAD!"

As if on cue to silence the annoying singing, Fairy Lily appeared, holding a magic wand and wearing a shiny pink dress!

"I have come to solve all of your problems!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"You mean you can tell me who the Man is?" the Dark Magician asked incredulously.

"Yes! Oh, wait, um, no. Not directly, anyway." She smiled apologetically.

"Then what do you want with us? Do you have issues or something?" the Mystical Elf demanded.

"Aah! You ask too many questions! Just take these!" she yelled, waving the sparkly wand. A pair of (MAGICAL!) sea foam green sandals fell from the sky.

The Dark Magician picked them up. "What the heck do these do?"

"I don't know! I just give them to you! You're supposed to wear them!"

"He can't," the Dark Magician Girl pointed out. "He's already wearing shoes."

"Eeh? Gah! Just put them on your hands or something!" she screamed. And then she was gone. MAGICALLY.

As the Dark Magician grudgingly slipped them on his hands, the Celtic Guardian leaned over, sporting a sly grin. "Maybe you're supposed to clap them together and say, 'There's no place like McDonald's.'"

…

Still somehow painting, the Celtic Guardian skipped backwards. "I have a banjo, he I have named Sid. We make music together, then died he did. Oh, SID THE LOVEABLE BANJO! Doo doo, doo doo! HE DID DIE THAT DAY! I BURIED HIM IN OPOSSUM LAKE AND HE'LL COME BACK SOME DAY! I held a funeral procession, oh yes indeedly do! We sang gospel hymns and prayed the night away! But Sid was not there with us, and so the hymns were sad! We also found the Dark Magician sings really, really bad! OH SID! THE LOVEABLE BANJO! FASHIONED IN A LATHE! His strings got crusty, and then they snapped and Sid was no mo'! He—"

"That's enough," the Dark Magician Girl interjected. "Stop before you kill us all."

Kuriboh squealed to confirm this. The Dark Magician was still irritated, on account of the 'bad singing' thing. But he could not be irritated for long! Over that, anyway…

A rash of giggling from off the side of the road caused them to turn. It was an extremely happy horde of Watapons licking popsicles!

"Hee hee!" one giggled.

"Welcome to the Popsicle Guild! Where we worship popsicles!" another shrieked.

"PAGANS!" the Dark Magician Girl accused.

"Popsicle pagans?" They stopped bouncing.

"Are they Satanic popsicle pagans, or just regular popsicle pagans?" the Celtic Guardian asked. Stares. "What?" he whined.

"Ignoring that. But why are you here, you pink freaks?" the Dark Magician demanded.

"Becaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaause," one said, dragging out the already annoying answer to a downright irritation. "Will you worship popsicles with us?"

"No." The Mystical Elf even LOOKED blunt. If that is even possible.

"What!" they screamed. "If you do not, then you will paaay." They began to chase after the mob.

A familiar acquaintance screeched. Dark Necrofear!

"Hey!" it yelled. "You can't kill them! _I_ want to kill them!"

"Yep. It's a Yami Bakura Monster, definitely." The Celtic Guardian rolled his eyes.

"Uh… okay. It may be comforting that we're being saved from 'Death by Popsicle', but not very comforting. Considering the option," the Dark Magician sighed.

Dark Necrofear hissed as it whacked the Watapons with a tree that it had unearthed. (Evil environment killer! There is an ecodisaster at hand!) "Take that! And that!" it cried. "Batteries not included!"

"Gah!" the Watapons screamed. "It hurtses!"

"Mua ha ha…" Dark Necrofear laughed at the puffballs as it maimed them. The fuzzy pagans yelped in horrifying pain incurred by the tree. One by one, they retreated, preaching the message of Popsicles as they fled. Finally, they were all gone.

"There." Dark Necrofear brushed off its hands. "My work is begun. You!" It pointed at the assembly.

"What?" the Dark Magician Girl asked, bored.

"I'm going to eat you."

"Okay."

"OKAY!" Dark Necrofear had intimidated—or so it thought—hundreds of Monsters, but none of them had said 'Okay'. _What is her problem?_ it thought.

"Yes. Okay. Now let us go." The Dark Magician sounded more tired than indignant. Maybe they were suicidal.

"No," Dark Necrofear said, furrowing its brows. If it even has brows. "I will kill you. And then eat you. Or eat you alive… ugh. So many choices..." It held its head in its hands.

"Uh… Yeah. You do that," the Mystical Elf replied. The posse walked away.

"WAIT, NO! I STILL HAVE TO K—" Dark Necrofear was promptly mashed by Obelisk the Tormentor, who inexplicably fell from the heavens.

The group looked back. "Kewl."

…

They slowed as the Celtic Guardian cried out in pain. "Oh no! I ran out of paint!" he sobbed.

The others ignored him. Kuriboh squeaked in awe.

"What, Kuriboh? A castle?" The Dark Magician squinted ahead. "Nope. I only see an office building."

Kuriboh squealed, irritated.

"Eh? It is a castle? Well, that's new," the Dark Magician commented cheerfully. "I wonder why we've never noticed it before."

Kuriboh whined and was replied to by the Mystical Elf.

"Yeah. Smart boy," she cooed (emotionlessly.) "Yeah, maybe because we walked for… How long?"

"Eight hundred fifty little ducks," the Dark Magician Girl said, glaring at the Celtic Guardian, who was still crying over his lack of paint.

"Yeah. We've been walking for eight hundred fifty ducks. Which means, like, infinite miles." She fixated her gaze on the castle. "Though it does look like an office."

"Hm," the Dark Magician replied, obviously not paying attention. The castle was getting bigger as they walked toward it. Kuriboh hopped around anxiously.

"Why are you so excited about a castle-office-building?" the Dark Magician Girl asked, though she honestly didn't care.

Kuriboh screeched again. Loud.

"I think he didn't want to be included on this journey," concluded the Celtic Guardian, recovering from his sad loss. "And I wish I wasn't either," he added, "because then I could be buying more paint right now. Had we not strayed from civilisation."

The Dark Magician pretended not to notice. "I think we're getting near the entrance," he said calmly. This self-confidence was soon replaced by skepticism. "If that _is_ the entrance." He tilted his head.

They were stopped as they rammed into a large metal door. "Aah," the Mystical Elf commented, glaring at the steel. They stared at a keypad, which was rather high up but nonetheless not as intimidating as one would think.

"How do we get in?" the Dark Magician Girl cried in exasperation.

"Ooh! I know!" the Celtic Guardian screamed, jumping up and down. He kicked the keypad, breaking it. The door slid open.

Inside there was a large screen. On it was a ghostly-looking blob. "None shall pass!" it proclaimed in a deep voice.

"Santa Claus?" the Dark Magician exclaimed, going all sparkly.

"NO! Now go away!" it yelled.

The Dark Magician whimpered. "You're so mean. We should leave!" Kuriboh, evidently, had other ideas.

The furball bounded over to a brightly coloured paisley tapestry and sunk its tiny fangs into the probably very expensive fabric. Although it does not have a mouth. He is soooooooooooooooooooo special.

"EH? Kuriboh, don't eat that!" the Mystical Elf screamed. But it was too late. Kuriboh was already ripping the cloth off of the wall. They all gasped when they saw what was behind it.

"Eh? Mighty Mage!" they exclaimed IN COMPLETE AND UTTER SHOCK! GASP!

The blue and white coloured munchkin returned with a look of pure annoyance. "Is it so amazing?"

"You're the MAN!" the Dark Magician cried.

"No." He twitched. "I WORK for the Man. I myself am not the Man."

Sparkling, the Celtic Guardian shrieked. "AWWW! You're too CUTE to work for the Man!" Side note: NO, he is NOT gay, the Mighty Mage is just TOO, TOO cute… Right? Am I right?

"Get off," he growled, quite obviously sick of the 'Cute Duel Monster of the Month' title he had received for the last, oh, four years? And why couldn't someone like Orgoth be considered 'cute'? That's what he wanted to know.

"WELL, IF YOU AREN'T THE MAN, THEN WHO IS?" the Dark Magician screeched, obviously fed up with all of it. "Just make my day and tell me."

"Well, I'm not supposed to, but I don't really care anymore," the small blue dude muttered, "because SOME PEOPLE won't get off me."

"Was that a threat?" the Mystical Elf asked. Well, actually said, more or less, because she obviously didn't care.

"Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute! He's trying to be angry!" squealed Celtic Guardian, quite delighted by the turnout. _The Man, who?_

"Get off me before I must poke your eye out with my pretty staff."

"You'll shoot your eye out!" cried the Mystical Elf and the Dark Magician Girl, sounding more happy than A-Christmas-Story-y.

"You wanna know who the Man is or not?" The cute secretary was now trying to wrench himself from the (Yami: "Obnoxious") grip of the (Yami: "Obnoxious") Celtic Guardian.

Moment of silence.

"YES!" screamed the Dark Magician, not liking the lack of intelligent questions. "Tell me, O Cuteness!"

"Call me that again and die."

The Dark Magician tilted his head. "Fair compromise." He went back to looking annoyed. "So, come on."

The Mighty Mage sighed. The psychos he had to deal with… "He's the spiky tri-coloured guy."

Another profound moment of silence, as characters on soap operas do when they reach the climax of the story.

Mystical Elf broke the silence. "I hope you're referring to his hair."

The Mighty Mage stopped thrashing to look intelligent. Then it turned to haughtiness. "I should hope so myself!" he declared… uh, femininely.

"Wait," the Dark Magician said slowly. What a good soap opera character! He knows how to recover from astounding revelations. "You mean _Yugi_ is the Man?"

"More specifically, the Pharaoh. But yeah," he said, still struggling out of the elf's arms.

"CUUUUUUUUUUUTE! He's smart, too!" Celtic Guardian cried.

"Shut up!"

"Wait. So it was right in front of me the whole time?" The Dark Magician though on this for a moment. "…CRAP!"

"Well, that solves your problem," the Dark Magician Girl commented. Kuriboh squeaked.

Mystical Elf nodded in agreement. "Kuriboh's right. What about OUR problems?"

The Dark Magician looked somewhat pained. "Well...," he wheedled. "I guess all we found out was that the Celtic Guardian likes to paint magenta lines on roads."

"And that he has a death grip and a 'me fetish'," the Mighty Mage choked. "But on the subject of painting purple lines…"

"What is it?" the Celtic Guardian asked. "Speak, small—and CUUUUTE—blue man!"

"It says on the sign there: 'Paint a Gold Line if You Are an Egyptian God; Paint a Purple Line if You Are Magic; Black Line if You Are Antagonistic; Red Line if You Like Pointy Stuff'…" He trailed off. "Need I go on?"

"What does that have to do with anything…" The Celtic Guardian scanned down the list. "Oh, here it is. 'Paint a Magenta Line if You Are'… A PERVERT!"

"Ah. So I guess you did find a new identity," Mystical Elf teased, "Perv Boy."

Sure enough, the sign was right. The Winged Dragon of Ra was skipping along, painting an elaborate gold line. Jinzo scowled as he painted a thin black line; the Magician of Black Chaos's purple line was going over an unidentified green line. A red trail followed Harpy Lady. And glaring in the middle was none other than the Celtic Guardian's long magenta line. A number of monsters stood around it, wondering who could have painted THAT in their right mind and laughing at the same time.

"Well, you seem a little more optimistic," the Dark Magician declared profoundly, nodding at the Mystical Elf.

"Hm. Guess I did gain some self-esteem," she replied. "Out of knowing that I'm not a pervert."

"Good, and I found the Man." He fixed his gaze on everyone's favourite drain-clogging dustball. "Did Kuriboh find a solution to his problems?"

Kuriboh turned, facing them. It finished devouring a small pair of sandals and looked pleased.

"Dude, you ate the flip-flops!" Kuriboh burped in response. "Don't you give me that! But… I guess you did find an answer to your problems. Whatever they were."

"So, I guess that means that this is all done." The Dark Magician Girl looked around—at the large walls, the endless floor, and the suffocating Mighty Mage. Life was good.

"Oh. Crap," the Dark Magician put his head in his hand.

"The most important one," Mystical Elf added. They stared in silence at the magician's (NOT THE DARK MAGICIAN'S, the other one) virtually inexistent skirt. Luckily she was too busy blasting holes in the 'endless floor' with her curled staff.

"Let the pretty secretary go, Celtic Guardian," the Dark Magician chirped. "It's time to leave."

"Hey!" O Cuteness himself shrieked. "I'm not pretty! I'm cute! I mean—I—no-AAH! JUST—GO!"

And with that, they were shoved out. An interesting ending to an odd day.

* * *

Laura- Oh yeah... For those who couldn't tell, this is a take off of the Wizard of Oz. Not mine.

Katie- Or mine. Neither is the odd Game of Duel Monsters...

Laura- ...Or Yu-Gi-Oh...

Katie- ...Or Downy Ultra-Soft...

Laura- ... So we really don't own anything... That is kinda disheartening...

Katie- Wait! WE OWN SID THE BANJO! (They throw a party in the name of Sid the Banjo)

Laura- Oh yeah. We also don't own that 'little ducks' song. Our regards to Trout Fishing in America. And Downy Ultra-Soft for anyone who knows it!

Katie- Yeah. So Review like your lives depend on it! 'Cause I'm sooooo cool! Just like Jonas Salk!

Laura- -.-;


End file.
